Case Number 04837: Small Claims Court

LANCELOT OF THE LAKE

The Charge

You, good sir knight, have lain with the queen.

The Case

Robert Bresson's 1974 deconstructionist take on the legend of King Arthur and
the Knights of the Round Table comes to DVD in this spare edition from New
Yorker video. Bresson's attitude toward the subject is established immediately
via the decapitation of one knight by another, complete with continuous and
far-jetting blood spurt. A few more such atrocities swiftly follow before an
opening title narration, accompanied by the tinniest of horn fanfares, begins
with an incendiary irony regaling the knights' "noble adventures."
Thus Bresson drops us into his minimalist Arthurian world, with tongue so firmly
in cheek that it pokes through to the outside. Being that this is a French art
movie, that irony takes the form not of humor but of intense bitterness and an
effort to show these legendary heroes with very human feet of clay.

While there are various elements in the film dedicated to this principle,
there is one that stands out most: Bresson continually chooses to show the
knights' armor from behind, revealing bare hamstrings and unprotected heels --
these knights are armored but only according to their own rules of battle, and
any "honorless" innovator will be able to swiftly cut them down. In
this reviewer's provincial eyes, that translated in part to a metaphor about the
American Revolution and the eventual fall of England's power. Perhaps not what
Bresson intended, but one of the virtues of minimalism is the audience's power
to project into the work. This minimalism shows not only in the sets,
constructed mostly of plain clay, brick, or even cloth (far from the
"Golden City" we normally see, this simple Camelot is rarely even seen
in long shots), and the scenes (one extended dialogue between Guinevere and
Lancelot takes place in the form of two close-ups in profile), but the plot as
well, which has the knights returned from their failed Grail quest to find
little in the way of activity. Lancelot (Luc Simon) is wracked with guilt over
his affair with the queen (Laura Duke Condominas), while Arthur (Vladimir
Antolek-Orasek) attempts, even while demoralized, to gather the knights back
into the familial strength they once shared. On the sidelines, though, plots
Mordred (Patrick Bernard), whose resentment of the king has grown strong during
the pointless quest -- and who has come to notice the bare hamstrings,
metaphorically speaking. Lancelot and the fierce Gawain (Humbert Balsan) try to
appeal to Mordred's better nature, but it seems to have vanished in the face of
his bitterness. Lancelot, however, clings to the chivalric ideals and, driven by
his guilt, separates himself from the court. But, like most heroes, he
underestimates his own importance: his presence may have been the only thing
left to hold the round table together at all.

Another of Bresson's points seems to be the general unpleasantness of living
in medieval Europe; a theme that would also permeate the following year's
European Arthur movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I mention Holy
Grail not only for that reason, but for the fact that some of its humor
seems to be in direct parody of Lancelot. This supposition may be taking
the similarities between the movies' scenes a bit too far, but you'll have a
hard time not associating the two once you see those heads and arms fly off in
the opening reel. As the film progresses, Bresson takes many opportunities to
blow very loud trumpet fanfares, as if saying, "Can you imagine
living with this all the time?" This is particularly felt during the
tournament scene in which a knight, who may or not be Lancelot, defeats a mighty
number of opponents. How do we know he defeated them, when all we see is the
legs of the opposing horses and cuts away to the flag being raised for a new
joust? Well, it's the same horse going in one direction every time. That's it.
The entire tournament is covered in this fashion -- as if Bresson, who
unflinchingly showed us the horrors of actual combat, is afraid to look at a
fight on these knights' friendly terms, somehow more horrible than the actual
death because here we have friends fighting each other for the first time in
anger. But as the situation approaches critical, things become more and more
realistic, until the film clouts you soundly in the face with its iron-gloved
ending. Even with the film clocking at only eighty minutes, it feels like a long
trek followed by a slam into a brick wall. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

New Yorker presents Lancelot of the Lake in a letterboxed transfer,
with the image at 1.66:1, maybe just a hair less tall, within the 16:9 frame.
The transfer is not strong, with much edge enhancement, clearly an older (albeit
good) television transfer resized. This means that the embedded 3:2 pulldown is
present, unfortunately, eating up the bitrate and providing stuttery motion for
the MPEG-2 encoding to try and interpolate. This will also mean, as usual, that
viewers using progressive display systems will suffer an even worse stuttering
unless they apply a pulldown removal. While the case touts the film as
"visually breathtaking," (from a Wall Street Journal review
likely written at the time of original release), the film is anything but. There
are a few lush forest scenes, but again I must turn to Python for reference and
say that they really look not much better than anything from Holy Grail.
Perhaps the transfer fails to bring out elements of the cinematography that
would make a crucial difference; I cannot say. The audio is an unremastered
monaural track in French. This is good in that it is authentic, but on the other
hand, it is very tinny and often grating, as I suspect is intended. This whole
movie seems to want to put your teeth on edge in a way, and it's not too bad at
doing so, but the teeth will be on edge not only from tension (to some degree)
but from the mere fact of all the unpleasantness in which the film immerses
itself. The only official extra is an incomprehensible theatrical trailer, which
seems to include most of the violence; included in a side menu are also a few
trailers for other New Yorker offerings such as Underground and The
Eel.

Lancelot of the Lake is an interesting and compelling movie on some
levels; on others, it is almost totally flat, particularly in the acting
department -- although, as noted, this flatness does seem to have a purpose. I
would recommend it -- as a rental -- to any serious student of deconstructionism
or Arthurian legend generally, with the former group more likely to be satisfied
than the latter, who may take issue with anachronisms and liberties Bresson has
taken with the tale. Nonetheless, it is refreshing to see the Arthur legend used
in a serious context, no matter what the particulars. The experience is largely
academic, but it is possible to catch the rhythm of this film and enjoy
its tragic tale at gut level. It's just not easy and for most people may not be
worth the effort. At $29.95, this is nothing to purchase, but a qualified rental
recommendation seems not entirely out of order; and with a New Yorker pedigree,
it's likely to be a good candidate for inclusion in a number of public
libraries. Lancelot is released into its publisher's custody, under the
provision that it not slaughter anyone horribly on its way out the door.